


Touch

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Season 6B, gay married in space, touch of weight gain kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is attending a peace conference on a planet with a funny cultural hang-up about physical contact in public. Jamie is starved for attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

“You think _you’ve_ been bored.” The Doctor struggled with the buttons of Jamie’s shirt. “Do you have any idea how _relentlessly_ dull this peace conference is –” Clearly defeated by the buttons, he pawed at Jamie, and Jamie couldn’t blame him, for he felt the same way – hungry for contact, desperate to just _touch_.

He grabbed two handfuls of the Doctor’s shirt and pulled him down to kiss again, and again. The Doctor wound his fingers in Jamie’s hair and kissed him deeper, deeper, like he was drinking him in.

He sat back, scrabbling at Jamie’s shirt, murmuring about _too many clothes_ , too overcome to do much about it. The people on this planet, he’d said, had some funny hang-up about physical contact in public. They weren’t to touch lest they were alone, and it’d been weeks since they were last alone together. The Doctor was just too damn _busy_.

“Least you’ve had something to do,” Jamie said, cupping his hand about the Doctor’s face. “I’ve been sittin’ around here all day.”

“Hmm?” said the Doctor, his lips against Jamie’s palm.

“I’m getting’ fat,” said Jamie.

“Oh, nonsense,” said the Doctor. “You –” His hands slid up beneath Jamie’s shirt. “My goodness, you are a bit, aren’t you?” He pushed Jamie’s shirt up, grinning, practically giggling, pressing in his fingers.

“Och,” said Jamie, squirming, trying and failing to drag his shirt back down. “It’s no’ my fault. I’m used tae a lot more dashin’ about than this.”

“Oh, hush. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” said the Doctor, stroking Jamie’s newly soft stomach. “I’d have settled you down somewhere a long time ago if I’d known it would make you so delightfully squishy.”

“I’m no’ squishy, _you’re_ squishy – ah.” The Doctor bent his head and began to suck hot, wet kisses upon Jamie’s stomach. “ _Ah_. That _tickles_.”

“Mmm,” said the Doctor. “I know.” He thrust his tongue into Jamie’s tummy button. Jamie collapsed into helpless giggles.

“Oh, God,” he sobbed. “Mercy. _Mercy_.”

Chuckling, the Doctor pressed one last kiss to Jamie’s belly and scrambled up the bed to kiss him on the mouth, kiss him and kiss him like he’d just found water in the desert. Jamie rubbed slow circles on the Doctor’s back, bunching up the thin cloth of his shirt.

They drew apart in stages, the Doctor pressing light, soft pecks to his lips till Jamie needed to look at him. He pulled back, touching a hand to the Doctor’s face. The Doctor stroked his hair, staring down at him, enjoying the fond silence.

“I missed you,” said Jamie.

The Doctor heaved a sigh. “Not much longer,” he said. “Just a few more weeks. I promise.” He fixed his features into a smile. “Then you can start working off that belly,” he said, patting Jamie’s stomach.

“Oh, God.” Jamie pressed his face into the Doctor’s shoulder. “It’s no’ my _fault_. I’ve got nothing to _do_.”

“I know,” said the Doctor, stroking his back.

“And the food here’s amazing,” Jamie said into the Doctor’s shirt.

The Doctor laughed, his shoulders shaking. “Small mercies.”

Jamie breathed in, and lolled back against the pillows. “Alright,” he said, stretching out his arms. “Enough of that. Are you goin’ tae take your trousers off? Or shall I?”


End file.
